Distance
by hetalia is LOVE
Summary: Distance: n. 1. Separation in space or time. You wish you could see him, you wish, you wish. But wishing gets you nothing here. Heartbreak is your life and your very core is made up of a hundred thousand thoughts of "I wish, I wish, I wish."


**Distance: n. 1. Separation in space or time.**

You felt every single inch separating you like another blow. This was impossible. Why did you have to fall in love with him? This wasn't supposed to happen, not when the possibility of your death is so very real. Possibility? Who are you kidding? You're going to die, and soon. No doubt about it. You knew Doom inside and out, had been familiar with the voices of the imminently deceased before you were blinded. You couldn't tell him your feelings, that would only make it worse when you were gone.

You, Sollux Captor, were paradox space's chewtoy. You knew it and had accepted it, but God, you didn't want to drag John into it too. Every pesterchum conversation was a reminder of what wasn't yours, what you couldn't have. Even after being in the game so long, the human had a sense of innocence, he wasn't too broken to be fixed. Not like you. You stared sightlessly at the screen of the computer in front of you, breath hitching and tears wanting to fall. You wanted him to fix you.

Terezi taught you how to use your other senses to make up for being blind, and you had managed to create a program that would read you the text on the screen that you couldn't see. Your pesterchum conversations continued in all your free moments, infatuation tugging you to the computer lab time and time again. You complained about being blind, and immediately regretted telling him when you heard how damn upset he was.

The video chat system was one of the things that really made you question whether you were a masochist. John had been pestering you about how badly he wanted to actually see what trolls looked like, and the other humans had jumped on the bandwagon as well. Pretty soon, Terezi was bugging you to set something up as well; though why it mattered when she was blind and you had the Trollian viewports anyway, you didn't know. But you set up a videochatting system because you remembered the glimpses of John you'd seen well enough to picture him pouting and that was enough to motivate you.

Too soon and not soon enough, you're sending the message to let him know the system was functional and asking Kanaya if you looked okay. All of your typical snark seemed to have been sucked out of you, leaving only a trembling wiggler behind. Fiddling with Feferi's goggles, you decided to swap them for your old glasses for the first time John saw you. When you finally heard the sound signaling a video call, your mouth was dry and your palms sweaty, but you managed to click the accept button and wait for John's too-excited voice in your ear.

"Hi, Sollux! Wow, this video system is the coolest! Did you really make it all by yourself?" He went on and on ceaselessly and you let him, content to just listen. After a few moments of chatter, you can hear him lean in closer (cursing how well you set it up, hearing his every movement) and you tensed up self-consciously.

"You look so cool, I can't believe you guys are actually aliens. I'm friends with aliens...Some of my friends are actually aliens." You want to find his laugh annoying, but you can't. It's too real and seemingly untainted by all of this death. A smirk found its way onto your lips, and you quipped "No, we were obviously lying to you all this time. That's just the kind of douchebag I am, JN. Got everyone else in on it too."

His nervous stuttering was adorable when he replied. "N-no, that's not what I meant...I just...This is all so weird," he finally sighed. You wish you could see him, you wish, you wish. But wishing gets you nothing here. Heartbreak is your life and your very core is made up of a hundred thousand thoughts of "I wish, I wish, I wish."

"Fucking tell me about it," you grumbled, listening to him go on and on about your skin and your horns and how cool your glasses are. He probably would've thought your eyes were cool too, back when they were only a little strange and not scarred and burnt. To be honest, you were glad you didn't have to look at them. No way were you putting him through that. During the conversation you made sure your glasses didn't slide down the bridge of your nose, exposing the ugly, blackened, barely there remains of your eyes.

At the end of your third video call, you slipped up and said "Flushed for you" when he said goodbye. You were certain your whole face flushed honey-colored and you couldn't hit the end call button fast enough. When would you stop being such a total fuckup? Forehead resting on the cool counter, you yelled expletives at everybody and nobody, and this time you might even feel a tear or two fight its way out of your ruined tear ducts. Your voice cracked when you whispered "Why am I so fucking flushed for you?" and again at your barely audible "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Angry hands slapped away your friends as Kanaya, and even Karkat came to see what was wrong. It didn't matter. None of it mattered except John and his goddamn "I am not a homosexual" that had gotten Karkat so angry months ago. He'd feel bad even though it was your fault, and all you could do was scream like a lunatic at the walls and wonder why you hurt everyone you loved.

The next day, Karkat took one look at your face and immediately messaged John, all angry edges and sharp bitten-off words. The two of you might bicker, but you truly cared for each other, and judging by the angry pounding on the keyboard beside you and muttered curses, Karkat was taking it upon himself to help fix things.

Before you knew what was going on, Karkat was walking away and you heard the tell-tale crackling that always preceded John's voice at the beginning of your calls. "Um, Sol?" he asked hesitantly. Turning your head back toward the screen you bit your lip, hoping Karkat hadn't relayed the story of your hysterics the previous day. "Hey JN, miss me?" Your tone was casual, but anxiety bubbled just below the surface. Maybe it would be better if he didn't want to talk to you anymore. Easier to sever the connection quick and fast, of his own choice. Maybe KK would spare him the news of your demise.

Damn him, laughing like nothing had changed. "Yeah, obviously. Like I said, you're the coolest. How couldn't I miss you?" You weren't strong enough for this. Your arrogant attitude was all an act, hatred for yourself burning a hole in your chest. God, you had never been strong enough. You killed Aradia, you couldn't save Feferi. It was only a matter of time before you killed him too, differently. Your action might not result in a hole through his chest, but you weren't sure if someone who cared as much for his friends as he did could deal with a permanent loss. All the humans came back. He didn't yet know the pain of a friend being dead for real.

The first time you met in person, he rushed forward and hugged you tight, seemingly unaware of all that simple gesture meant to you. Your throat closed up and without thinking, you brought one hand under his chin, tilting his head up to let you kiss him. It was sloppy and difficult because of your lack of sight to help you, and when you managed to press your lips to his, you felt his nervous breathing against your skin. He was so small, and soft; not like the bony angles of most trolls. Soft lips met yours and you felt warm hands rest at the back of your neck. Your glasses clicked against his and you pulled away as well as you could manage, worried you ruined everything again.

You stumbled as you stepped back, muttering a mantra of "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck" and face burning bright yellow. "Fuck! I'm sorry John, I shouldn't have done that. Gog, I'm so stupid. I fuck everything up. Everyone I love gets hurt, I didn't want this to happen."

"No, it's okay. I'm god tier, and I don't think anything you do will give me a particularly heroic or just death. Sol, I really like you and I might not actually be...a heterosexual as it turns out. And if you don't mind..."

Trailing off, you heard footsteps coming closer to you and then a skinny human body crashing into yours. You were all elbows and knees, your formerly lean build now too thin from missed meals and heavy grief. Ignoring any self-consciousness you had, you managed to blindly enfold John in your arms. He wasn't the best at kissing, but you appreciated that he had initiated it this time, sparing you the awkward fumbling to find his lips. You also appreciated his tight, comforting hug and the way his fingers wove into your hair.

Smirking, you murmured "Don't mind at all, JN. Actually, I've been waiting for that for ages. Hell yes, kiss me all you want."

Once there wasn't such a great distance between you, a matespritship blossomed quickly. John was quite cooperative with you using your other senses to make up for not seeing him. The giggles elicited by your touches made you grin, happy that he had taken such a genuine liking to you as a matesprit. He had tried pranking you a few times, but ended up feeling guilty and letting you catch him for flushed bro-cuddles. Just maybe, you weren't too broken to be fixed by John Egbert.


End file.
